Previously: Jack and Phryne found Leo and Margo, but Leo ran into the road and got hit by a car. Jack was unconcerned.

Chapter 10

Jack's heart sank when he saw Leo, sitting up in his bed on the public ward. He knew the presence of other patients and families wouldn't stop Bel making a scene, if it came down to it. He paused at the entrance to the room, internally bracing himself for the conversation to follow. But Margo called out for her mother instantly and Bel and Leo looked over, so there was no chance to get his thoughts together, even if it could be done.

"Margo?" Bel had stood up from her chair but remained at Leo's bedside. Margo squirmed in Jack's arms.

"Go on," said Phryne softly, her hand at Jack's back. "I'll wait here."

He looked at her, feeling like he had more chance of remaining calm if she came with him. He couldn't ask her, though, could he? That would seem…

But she had seen his unspoken dilemma, and acted decisively, nodding and running a hand down the arm that held onto Margo. "Come on," she said softly, walking with him. He blinked gratefully.

"Mummy!"

Bel moved forward as they approached and scooped her daughter out of Jack's arms.

"Oh! My darling girl!" There were tears in her voice. "It's so good to see you."

"She never was in any danger," Leo grumbled from the bed. His leg was plastered and suspended above the mattress.

Jack looked sharply at him, and Phryne had to stop herself from placing a soothing hand on his back. Leo, however, was balking at his wife's expression, not Jacks.

"Though…" Leo's words were clearly distasteful to him. "I realise that you all must have been worried. I shouldn't have done it the way I did." His accent was softer now, his expression contrite.

"You kidnapped your daughter, Leo," Jack stated coldly. "It's still a crime."

"You heard him, he's sorry for what he did," Isabel said, leaning towards Jack with Margo still in her arms.

"I don't think I did hear him say that," Jack replied. He would have loved to have been wrong about this; just loved it. But he could already see how this was all going to pan out. She was going to withdraw the charges, go back to him and pretend all of this had never happened.

The very sight of Leo was making him angry. "I'll be proceeding with the charges. A constable will remain here until you are released, and then we'll take you into custody."

"Jack!" Isabel protested, but her brother cut her off -

He didn't look at her. "If you want to make any further statements you'll need to come to the station."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the ward.

Phryne remained, and Isabel turned to her at once. "Miss Fisher, can't you please…?"

"I can't do anything to change Jack's mind," she warned. She didn't add that she had no wish to. She beckoned Isabel to the side, out of Leo's hearing. Isabel shot her husband a nervous glance, but followed Phryne.

"Will you two be alright?" Margo was looking up at her with big eyes and she gave her a soft, reassuring smile as she waited for Isabel's reply.

Isabel smiled too, though hers was a forced affair. "Miss Fisher, I'm not sure what Jack has told you…"

"He didn't need to tell me anything, Mrs Drake. I was there last night when you were so scared you needed to be sedated. I was there when you told me how Leo had changed since Margo was born. And, by the way, I was also there when he grabbed Margo and knocked me to the ground."

"Please…" Isabel was flustered, trying to cover Margo's ears. "Don't…"

Phryne shook her head. "I'm sorry if you don't want her to hear, but I'd wager she's heard worse." Who knew what fights Margo had overheard in the family home; what accusations, what insults?

"I know you might not believe me," Isabel said, her tone low and panicky. "But we love each other."

"I have no problem believing that. I've…" Phryne swallowed, thinking back to those intense, terrible months in Paris. "I've loved people who were bad for me too."

"He's never done anything to hurt me. Or Margo. Not physically. Ever."

Phryne nodded. It might be true. She was inclined to believe her. Maybe that's what made it easier for her to defend him. But she knew herself Leo was a violent man. She had the imprint of his boot on her stomach to prove it.

"Even if that's true," she said.

"It is."

"Even if it is… it doesn't mean he's not bad for you."

"Miss Fisher?" The voice, soft and lilting, came from the bed.

Phryne ignored it and spoke to Isabel. "I need to get back to the station." She turned and made to follow Jack's route out of the ward.

"Please, Miss Fisher. I just want to apologise."

Unwilling to make a scene in front of Isabel and Margo, Phryne bit her lip and walked slowly towards the bed.

He looked up at her, his expression open and, superficially, sincere.

"What?"

"About that scuffle on the beach," he said, disarmingly, as if it had been a pleasant game of tug o'war. Phryne felt herself tense up.

"What about it?" she said, flatly.

"I was in a bad way, y'see. I know I shouldn't have done it, but I thought I was never gonna see me daughter again. It made me crazy, you know. But, I am sorry, Miss Fisher. Really I am."

Phryne exhaled slowly as she remembered the cold and calculating attack. Leaning forward, and making sure Isabel and Margo couldn't hear her, she whispered:

"You weren't in a bad way. You weren't crazy. And you're not sorry. And I will not drop the charges."

His jaw clenched and she saw him think it, even if he didn't say it. Bitch.

She shot him a humourless smile, and walked out of the ward.

()

Jack was sitting in the passenger side of the Hispano when she returned. She had driven them to the hospital in her car, Margo sitting in Jack's arms.

"I'm sorry I walked out," Jack said as she climbed in.

"Don't be. I don't blame you." She had no intention of telling Jack about her exchange with Drake. It would only make him angrier.

"What happened when I left?"

"I talked to Isabel for a moment. I asked her if she'd be alright. She said she would be."

Jack sighed and put his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "I should have done that."

"Stop it." She reached across and took his hand. "I told you I wanted to help."

Jack was silent for a moment. Phryne could see his eyes travelling to the bruise on her cheek, then down to where he knew she was marked on her abdomen. "If I'd have known you would end up getting…"

"Stop it," she said again, quietly. He knew her better to think that danger would deter her from doing the things she felt passionate about. And helping Jack, and Jack's family, she realised, was something she was extraordinarily passionate about.

She would do anything, really, to take the distraught look off of his face right now.

But Jack, as ever, wasn't thinking of himself.

"What else can I do?" Jack said. It wasn't a rhetorical question.

"I don't know what else there is to do. She'll probably drop the charges."

"I know."

"I won't drop mine."

He nodded. "I'm glad."

"But I don't believe it'll stop them staying together."

Jack's eyes closed as he acknowledged the truth of what she said.

"She promised me he's never hurt her. I believed her, for what it's worth."

He looked at her. "Really? Even after what he did to you?"

"Yes." Phryne nodded. She felt like she'd been able to get the measure of the man, even in the short space of time they'd had together. "He doesn't lose his temper, Jack. He isn't the type to get angry, or drunk, or mad and lash out. He will use violence," she said. "But only when he means to. Only when it suits him."

Jack turned to look straight out of the windscreen. An air of despondency settled around them.

"I know that isn't particularly helpful," Phryne said. "But I'm sure it's true."

He nodded. "I agree with you. I'm just not sure what I can do about it." He turned and looked at her earnestly. "I'll throw the book at him for what he did to you. But we both know that won't get him much of sentence – if any – and I can hardly arrest him for something I fear he might do in the future."

"You'll be there for her," Phryne said. "It's all you can do."

There was a long silence, in which Phryne watched his jaw clench and unclench. She knew there was something he wanted to say, something that had been brewing since they sat in her kitchen.

"Jack?"

He drew his fingers across his mouth, shaking his head.

"Tell me," she prompted.

"I'm not sure if I can be there for her anymore," he said. His tone was flat, but his voice was thick with emotion.

"Jack…"

"I mean it, Phryne." He turned to look at her, and she was saddened to see his eyes filled with tears. "I've been through this with her time and time again, and every time it's more difficult." He shook his desperately. "I can't do anything to get him away from her, no matter what I say. And now he's managed to harm you as well –"

"Jack, that doesn't –"

"Don't you dare say it doesn't matter!" Jack snapped. "Of course it matters! You of all people… Don't you understand how frustrating it is to hear that? Day in, day out, the amount of women who tell me it doesn't matter!"

Phryne nodded, feeling choked. She knew what he was talking about, she had seen it; both on occasional outings with Jack and when she lived in Collingwood. There were too many women out there who were willing to write off their wellbeing as unimportant. But she knew something else too.

"You have no idea how unique you are, Jack," she said softly. "Back in Collingwood, nobody would have thought about calling the police over a domestic. But you make it your business. You're on their side. You get them help."

She knew this, because she'd seen it. Jack wasn't the sort of policeman to let a situation like that slip by unremarked. He didn't understand that sort of policing. It was part of the reason for his unthinkably long hours; that urge to follow up on everything, to do everything he could, whether it was getting a battered wife somewhere safe to stay, or liaising with welfare, or making sure a violent boyfriend was kept off the streets. She'd seen it, on her frequent trips to the station. She'd heard it from Hugh. It had become engrained in her knowledge of Jack Robinson, but even without that, she thought she had probably known it right from the beginning. Right from that moment in Lydia Andrews' bathroom.

"I plan to make this town less dangerous, Miss Fisher."

He had really meant it. For everyone.

But maybe that made it worse, she realised. To spend his life championing the lives of the vulnerable, and be unable to help his own sister.

And herself. She realised that was a factor too, for him. Every other time she had been in danger had been because she had thrown herself there; her own recklessness, really. But this time, it was his family that had brought her danger.

And she recognised that all-encompassing guilt, because of course, she had experienced it herself.

He reinforced her surmise, when he shook his head sadly. "Not this time."

She rolled her eyes and took his hand. "Responsibility and guilt," she said quietly, "are very closely linked. How could we not feel responsible for our little sisters?"

Jack looked up at her in surprise then squeezed her hand in understanding and acknowledgment. "You're trying to point out that we absolve each other more easily than we do ourselves."

"That, certainly. But also, whatever your burden of guilt, please don't add me to it. I couldn't bear to be part of the problem."

Jack gave her a look that told her he considered her anything but. He pulled their joined knuckles up to his lips and pressed his lips to them. "I can never thank you enough for what you've done. With Isabel, Margo… I may not like how it ended but… you were the only thing that kept me sane."

"It hasn't ended yet."

He smiled ruefully and squeezed her hand again, adding a swipe of his thumb across the back of her knuckles.

"It will. So maybe it really is time to give up responsibility. "

Phryne remained silent. They both knew Jack was more likely to spout wings and fly to the moon that refuse help to someone who needed it; especially his sister. The fact that he was even saying these words spoke more about his pain than anything else.

"Let's go back," she said softly. "If she does come back to end this, let's give it our best shot."

His eyes closed briefly at the word 'our'. His voice, when it answered her, was dry and choked.

"Alright."